Light Without A Shadow
by lessxordinary
Summary: Raito Yagami has lived through over ten years without L. Now, in his perfect world, he's missing the only thing that ever managed to break the monotony.


So it was over. He'd always known that this was how it would end, of course. Raito Yagami was never surprised, never outwitted. He was right. He won. This was how it had been his whole life, every rotation of the earth shone on another victory for the egoistical young man. He had fought his battle, and come out on top. But somehow, despite it all, it didn't satisfy. It didn't intrigue.

At the age of thirty-five, he was still being hunted by Mello. The overly innocent Near had been picked off by an assassin. Kira hadn't even had time for him. Mello, Raito was convinced, was mentally unstable. He didn't present much of a threat. So Kira was free to thrive, and he did. Worshiped like a god, Kira reformed everything, everyone. There was no violence, no disturbance, no crime, nothing. Good people being good to people. Life was perfect. There was no anger, no misery, no war. But, at the same time, there was no genius.

Raito couldn't help but feel as though his life was dark now. Stumbling through the dark, shadows playing upon shadows. Days came and went without change. Peace layered on peace layered on peace, with no change from the monotony. There was no release, nothing to challenge him, make him try anymore. Kira's world was perfect. But, even in his own creation, Raito wasn't home. Misa was as much Kira as he was, now. She used the Deathnote, wrote down the names. He just looked pleased with himself.

What is there to do, for a man who had everything? Raito had looks, charms, and brains. He was loved, revered, and feared. Wealthy, powerful, confident. There was nothing else he could acquire; there was no other apex he could reach. The truth was you couldn't give Raito everything, because he had nothing. The world was at his fingertips, and he felt useless, hollow. His life was empty. He was empty.

Raito's eyes scanned the room of his home. He'd moved out, of course, but not with Misa. He'd have rather been alone. Alone... he was always alone. His mind, as he sat in the lonely green arm-chair, flickered back to thoughts of times long gone. Times that he had spent with another... a man with wild black hair and brilliantly dark eyes.

He wondered how many times he'd remembered L. L, with his magnificent mind and daring plans. How many times a day did he picture that other's face, a face which now was buried only in the dark recesses of his own mind. The task force were gone. Given up, dead. His own family had moved to a remote location in England to try and escape Kira's wrath. England, usually, was safe from Kira. No one else remembered L, or brought him up.

Why tear the scabs off of the wounds, they'd all said. Raito had lived too long. The wounds had festered, and they were eating him from the inside. He moved from his house in silence, ignoring everyone he passed. He would face his past, today. The past he'd been running from for years. He was thirty-five, now. Ten years older than L had been when...

Raito smiled bitterly and got into his car.

The building was a shadow of it's former self. It was long neglected, and completely untouched. It was a place of taboo; Where no one went, for fear of incurring Kira's anger. It was the final monument to the world that had almost been stopped. This world of perfect nothingness that he had brought into existence. His feet moved where no feet had moved in over five years. Thin layers of dust coated the ground, but Raito, for the first time in his life, didn't care.

He didn't mind that his shoes were filthy, or that cobwebs caught in his ever impeccable hair. He moved confidently; surely. Several windows and walls in the building had begun to crumble. Not naturally, of course. There had been rebellions centered here, and the rioters had used weapons of all sorts. But his destination... it was untainted.

His soft foot-falls led him to a room. It had smashed monitors lining one wall, and the far wall was completely broken down, letting the wind in to blow the dust and debris away. Raito looked around, hands at his sides. He'd never allow himself the comfort of slouching, not even here. His eyes darted over the broken glass, the ruined building he'd known, when he was young and unafraid. But now...

He cast a pained look about. His eyes instinctively missed the same object several times. But then, he forced them to it. It was a chair: A nondescript, black computer chair. But it was ever so much more than that. This was where he had died.

It hadn't been bloody, painful, or long. He hadn't screamed, or cried out. He'd fallen to the ground and, looking back, it was the most graceful thing Raito had seen in his whole life. L had been scared and worried, but he had embraced death quietly, without a struggle. He had faded from the world like that: Quietly. It was the way he lived, the way he moved, the way he acted. He was peace and joy and serenity.

Raito looked at the chair. L had been home. He had been variety. He'd been the shadow to Raito's light. But what is light without shadow? One cannot exist without the other with out becoming futile. Raito remained now, and that's all he could feel; Futile.

Uselessly, he moved to the black chair. He dared to touch it, gently. It, like so many other things about L and this place, had remained untouched. This place, though, it didn't feel like L. This broken building didn't feel like home. It was empty and dead. Raito bit back his frustration. Wherever he looked, wherever he went, he couldn't find that contentment again. L was gone, and he was never coming back.

His spirit, his essence, it wasn't lingering here. No matter where Raito went, he would never feel his presence again. He could never reclaim those days that he'd wasted, too set on his ideals to open his eyes to human nature. He knew that, now. But when you're young, you're foolish. And you let the person, the only person who really matters... You let them die.

No. No you don't.

You kill them.

Raito's light hair fell before his eyes as he hung his head. He turned and slowly, slowly, eased himself into the chair. This was the last place that strange creature had sat, where those wild eyes had closed in that final sleep of death. This was the last place he had breathed, smiled, thought. Raito thought, as he closed his eyes, that he could smell L still. L had always smelled nicely. He smelled like tea, and sugar, and warmth.

Somehow, even in Raito's perfect world, there was still a chair that smelled like L, when the rest of the world had forgotten.

Raito let his head rest where L's head had rested. He was momentarily lost in days long passed: He'd never loved L, never kissed him, hugged him. He wasn't sure he wanted to, even now. Was it that kind of love? No... It was deeper than that. He hadn't wanted anything passionate from Ryuuzaki. He hadn't needed anything physical from him, other than his smell and his sheer presence. And then, when they'd been handcuffed together, he had to admit he'd gotten used to L and his warm, honey-sweet fragrance so nearby.

Often he'd woken up in the middle of the night, remembering his body, so close. He could feel the heat, lingering from his dreams still. He was wrapped in warm sheets, stealing body-heat from L's lithe form, feeling the brush of his soft shirt against his cheek, like the nights when he'd rolled just a little closer to L than needed, just to hear his soft breath. But then, the energy would fade, dissipate into the night. Raito would find himself, like so many other nights, cold and alone.

Raito wasn't sure how much more he could take. But he had to try. L was dead, he'd known that for so many years.

"You're not here anymore. I'm alone, right? You gave up so easily... You weren't supposed to. It was supposed to go back and forth like that. I wasn't supposed to win!" He exclaimed. "You said you would beat me! Where are you, L?" Raito felt his face grow hot, and bitter tears threatened in his eyes.

"How can this be so final, huh, L? You said you would beat Kira, but you didn't. You just died." Tears flowed freely as Raito walked across the room, toward the decimated wall.

"You can see the whole city from here, L." Raito knew it was all in his mind, but he couldn't help himself. He needed this. Needed to come clean in the only place L could still be. L wasn't in that black ebony coffin in the ground. He wasn't in that hole. That's not where his soul was. His heart was in this building, solving the Kira case.

"It's not over yet! How did you give up so quickly, L? You didn't solve the case. You knew, the whole time you knew, I'm Kira! Dammit, L. Why'd you have to let me win?" Raito let himself cry, let himself yell to the nothingness, the Tokyo sky.

But then he fell silent. Had L really lost? He had died, but in their game, was death losing? L was gone, departed. But he had died knowing he was right. His heart clenched up and killing him, he'd known he was right. He had known that Raito was Kira. He had all along. But that man, that boy, with his glorious onyx eyes and ebony hair... He'd died. That was losing, wasn't it? But if he'd won and Ryuuzaki had lost, then why had Ryuuzaki died with such a content look on his face, when Raito was the one crying for him?

"You did win, didn't you." He said, realization slowly dawning on him. "All this time... It wasn't about Kira and L. It was about you and me, right? This is how you win the game... You're watching my world fall apart, my idealistic thoughts shatter... and you know that you've won." Bitter tears fell yet again. "Because you always had to win, Ryuuzaki. You caught Kira... You caught me, but when you died... You didn't let me go." He said, looking up at the slowly darkening sky, the sunset turning it hues of red and orange.

Somewhere, not far away, Lawliet's body lay in a coffin below ground. But his heart was with Raito Yagami.

Raito's pain overtook him. He knew now what his rash actions had cost him. Just like L always knew he would. He'd lost the spark of his life, the difference he so desperately needed. It hadn't been revolution or salvation he was after... it was the honey-sweetness of a friend, a companion... a soul mate.

He wrote something on a small sheet of paper, laying down slowly on the ground, where L had fallen, so many years before.

"You forgot, L... I never liked losing either."

He felt his body tense, and then suddenly he was gone.

A small piece of nondescript notebook paper was blown into the air, danced for a few moments over his empty frame, then blew out over the Tokyo horizon. All it held was two words...

_Raito Yagami._


End file.
